


sun of the morning

by sundara (miikkaa_xx)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 00:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miikkaa_xx/pseuds/sundara
Summary: Seokmin is forced to move out of his room in the dorms for a few days and ends up sharing more than just a bed with Minghao.





	sun of the morning

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings:** language, explicit sex, including: praise kink, felching. unbeta'd - all errors are mine own.

-

**i.**

Jeonghan catches the flu, and the only logical solution is to quarantine him. He is left alone in their room, while Seungkwan and Seokmin pack up their clothes and move out for the next three days minimum.

‘Seungkwan can bunk with us,’ says Hansol, because _of course_. Hansol shares a room with Chan, who agrees easily. Soonyoung is ready to volunteer to take in Seokmin, until he remembers he already has two roommates and Seungcheol chimes in that four people seems like a crowd. Then Mingyu says, ‘Seokmin can stay with us, right?’ and Minghao nods.

Which is how Seokmin winds up in their room for the night, chewing his bottom lip. ‘Sorry.’

‘S’okay, dude,’ says Mingyu, straightening the blanket on his bed and patting the mattress. ‘C’mon.’

Minghao is on his bed across from them, and watches as Seokmin gingerly climbs in next to Mingyu, both of them tall and broad and filling up the limited space of the twin bed easily. Eventually, Seokmin winds up with half his leg off the mattress entirely, but his mouth is pressed tight like he refuses to complain, so Minghao turns off the lights.

He’s a light sleeper at best, which makes Mingyu a great roommate because he passes out like a log. Tonight, of course, there’s a third person - and Minghao can’t help but keep an ear out.

Sure enough, there’s muted snuffles, an aborted cough, rustling of the blanket as Seokmin readjusts, trying to get comfortable. This goes on for the better part of an hour, and Minghao is impressed that Mingyu remains dead to the world considering there’s a sniffly, wiggly boy next to him.

Eventually, Minghao sees the dim glow of a phone screen coming on. He dips his head under his blanket to hide, but Seokmin is too busy wriggling out from Mingyu’s bed and sitting on the floor between the two beds. Grabbing his pillow from the bed, Seokmin places it on the floor and lies down.

Minghao winces at the sad sight.

‘Come here,’ he says, voice coming out raspy considering he’s exhausted and still unable to sleep.

Seokmin jerks up, surprised, and looks around, squinting at Minghao. ‘Did I - ’ He’s too loud and he knows it. Swallowing, Seokmin tries again in a whisper, leaning forward in Minghao’s direction. ‘Did I wake you up?’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ says Minghao, lifting his arm and holding the blanket up. ‘Come here.’

‘No, it’s okay - ’ says Seokmin, gesturing to his pillow that is on the - admittedly clean - floor.

‘Seokmin, come _here_ ,’ says Minghao, rolling his eyes. The use of his name at least gets his attention. Seokmin takes his pillow and shuffles towards Minghao’s bed. ‘C’mon.’

He’s shared a bed with Mingyu - who is comparably broad and tall like Seokmin - so it’s not a completely unfamiliar feeling having to scoot to the far end of his bed to make enough room. Seokmin tucks himself in as best he can considering he’s trying to stay near the edge of the bed, but Minghao is too tired to scold him for it.

He closes his eyes, waits for sleep.

A minute later, Seokmin turns over on his side. Sniffles. Then turns again.

For some reason, it didn’t occur to Minghao that Seokmin wouldn’t be calm in his bed over Mingyu’s. Seokmin continues to be restless, turning this way and that, his body vibrating with nervous energy, and Minghao is _tired_ , goddamnit.

Seokmin settles onto his back this time, staring at the ceiling, when Minghao throws an arm and a leg over him, startling him enough that he’s saying, ‘Sorry - I’m sorry!’

‘Shut up,’ says Minghao. ‘Stay still.’ This lasts for about a minute and a half before Seokmin tries to turn onto his side. ‘Stay still or I will _tie you down_.’

Seokmin makes a soft, terrified noise and settles.

Forced into stillness eventually has Seokmin falling asleep. Minghao sighs and tucks himself closer to Seokmin to keep him weighed down, drifting off as well.

  
  
  


In the morning, Minghao wakes up to an empty bed. He spots Seokmin hunched over Mingyu’s bed with his bag, getting out his toiletries. Mingyu was probably already in the kitchen making breakfast.

Checking the time, Minghao says, ‘You didn't sleep for long.’

Seokmin’s shoulders jump in surprise, but he just looks behind him at Minghao, gives him a strained smile. ‘Good morning! Don’t worry, it’s fine.’

Minghao doesn’t like it. He picks up his phone and rolls over.

  
  
  


**ii.**

At night, Seokmin washes his face and does not come into the room. Mingyu goes looking for him, comes back with a frown. ‘He wants to sleep out there?’

Minghao finds Seokmin on the couch in the living room, looking much too big for it considering it’s only meant for two people to sit on. He has a flimsy blanket and is wearing a sweater and socks. ‘You’re cold.’

Seokmin blinks, smiles nervously. ‘I’m good.’

‘Come to the room,’ says Minghao flatly.

The smile drops. ‘You didn’t sleep because of me. I’ll be okay out here. I don’t wanna bother you.’

‘You’re bothering me right now.’

Seokmin flinches. ‘Sorry…’

‘Stop, get up, and come to bed,’ says Minghao, staring down at him, unsmiling and serious. Seokmin stares back up at him, chewing on his bottom lip, before he slowly sits up. The blanket falls away so Minghao takes it, bundles it up in his arms, beginning to walk away. ‘Hurry up.’

He hears a shuffle behind him. Good.

In the room, Mingyu is putting on moisturizer while sitting on his bed. He grins at seeing Seokmin, pats the space next to him. ‘Wanna bunk with me tonight or Myeongho?’

Minghao cuts in before Seokmin can answer: ‘He’s with me.’

Mingyu raises his eyebrows but doesn’t object. Standing near the door, Seokmin fidgets, clearly anticipating another scolding. Sighing, Minghao gets into bed, gesturing for Seokmin to get in too. He does.

A minute later, Mingyu is turning off the lights, saying ‘goodnight!’ cheerily. Seokmin responds in kind while Minghao grunts, and waits for Seokmin to pick a position. This time he’s on his side, back to Minghao, shoulders hunched.

‘You should take off your sweater,’ says Minghao softly. ‘You’ll overheat.’

Even in the dark, Mingyu laughs from across the room: ‘Are you flirting over there?’

‘No!’ Seokmin starts. He sits up and does as told, left in his soft sleep shirt. After a pause, he takes off the socks too, and lies back down, still on his side, back facing Minghao. In the dimness, Minghao can only make out the outline of Seokmin’s silhouette, can’t help but reach out and touch to make sure he’s really there.

Even the brush of his fingers over a shoulderblade is enough to make Seokmin startle, curling a little on himself. Minghao sighs. ‘Relax.’

Mingyu giggles. ‘ _Relax_.’

‘Yah, go to sleep!’ Minghao snaps.

Instead, Mingyu bursts out laughing. A beat later, Seokmin laughs too - his frame shaking as he tries to muffle his giggles into the pillow. They calm down moments later, and Minghao can see that Seokmin’s shoulders have slumped lower, the nervous energy drained out of him - at least for now.

Last night, he had gone still when Minghao had thrown his weight over him. Maybe it would work again.

Well, only one way to find out.

Scooting closer, Minghao throws an arm around Seokmin’s waist, dragging him backwards so that Seokmin’s spine lined up all along Minghao’s front. Immediately, Seokmin gasps, but doesn’t resist. Not even when Minghao’s knees knock against the back of Seokmin’s as they press together.

This close and Minghao could press his mouth against the bare skin of Seokmin’s nape. Instead, he just closes his eyes, listening to Seokmin breathe steady - in, out, in, out - as he finally relaxes into Minghao’s frame.

Eventually, he must fall asleep. He doesn’t remember much else.

  
  
  


In the morning, Minghao’s bed is empty again. There’s no one in the room. He wonders if he’s overslept, but the time on his phone still tells him it’s early. Seokmin isn’t a morning person - and it makes him wonder why Seokmin doesn’t stay asleep.

  
  
  


**iii.**

Jeonghan moans out, ‘I’m gonna die,’ from the doorway of his room. Jihoon throws another blanket at him and yells, ‘Don’t kill us too!’

‘This might not be my last night here,’ says Seokmin, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Mingyu gives him a thumbs up. ‘No problem. As long as you don’t have whatever hyung has.’

‘The flu?’

‘The plague,’ he says sagely.

On his own bed, Minghao snorts, lying on his back while scrolling his phone above his head. Five minutes later, Seokmin’s changed into his sleep shirt and pajama pants, heading to the bathroom. Mingyu sits on his bed, checking his own phone, when he says, ‘It’s cool, y’know.’

‘What’s cool,’ asks Minghao.

‘Flirting with Seokminnie.’

Minghao drops his phone on his face.

Mingyu starts laughing.

‘I am _not_ ,’ says Minghao, and finds himself unable to think of anything else to say in his defense.

‘He can sleep with me,’ says Mingyu. ‘I didn’t even know he was tossing and turning all night until you told me after. But you can keep him to yourself too.’

‘I don’t - I’m just helping him sleep - _shut up_.’

Mingyu is still laughing when Seokmin comes back, and when Seokmin asks, Mingyu waves him off. Against his will, Minghao is grateful.

It’s familiar now - Seokmin tucking himself under Minghao’s blanket, the same blanket that’s beginning to smell like him. In a burst of defiance against Mingyu’s _baseless_ accusations, Minghao is already throwing an arm around Seokmin’s waist and dragging him back, making Seokmin squeak in surprise. He shoves a leg between Seokmin’s thighs too, pinning him down the little spoon, while Seokmin lets himself be manhandled without complaint.

Just as Minghao’s getting comfortable, he feels Seokmin’s hand on his arm, the one braced over his stomach. It’s a warm touch, sliding down his arm towards his wrist, before Seokmin curls his fingers loosely around the back of Minghao’s hand.

It’s not a familiar touch. Minghao doesn’t know what to do with it. He lies there, listening to Seokmin breathe, knowing very well that Seokmin was still awake, but not risking speaking up. Doesn’t want Mingyu to know. This was between them.

Then Seokmin is tugging - gently - at Minghao’s hand, enough for Minghao to lift his arm a little. It must be what he wants because that’s when he feels Seokmin’s palm over the back of his hand, his long fingers coming to fit between Minghao’s, closing them together in a fist. Fingers intertwined now, Seokmin tugs Minghao’s hand higher, towards his chest, so that Minghao is pressed even tighter Seokmin’s back as Seokmin curls into their handhold.

It’s… devastatingly soft. Minghao can’t help but stare at the back of Seokmin’s head, wondering, how, even as Seokmin relaxes, his fingers stay clutched tight around Minghao’s, unwilling to let go.

This time, he knows Seokmin drops off before he does, his shoulders slumped, chin tucked down, breath evening out. Minghao considers pulling his hand away - but, it’s what Seokmin wanted. It was so very hard to deny him.

  
  
  


In the morning, Minghao is alone, yet again. He frowns.

  
  
  


**iv.**

This time it’s more of an accident. Or rather, a natural expectation. Admittedly, Jeonghan is still coughing and hacking and Mingyu keeps shoving soup at him in hopes things will change, so Seokmin was going to sleep in Minghao’s bed _anyway_ but - this one feels different.

It’s after dinner when Minghao has his laptop out and is offering Seokmin to come watch a movie with him. He prefaces with, ‘It has subtitles, sorry,’ since it’s actually a foreign musical drama, but Seokmin agrees regardless. Minutes later, he’s changed in his pajamas and tucked under the blanket next to Minghao as they sit up against the wall, laptop on the bed in front of them both.

It’s good - dramatic, chaotic, and with nice songs. Seokmin seems enraptured as the lead lady sings, and he brings his knees to his chest, curling in on himself when she falls ill near the end. Minghao tips his head to the side as he watches, the emotions playing out on screen reflected in Seokmin’s expressions as he loses himself in the story. He’s terribly open, vulnerable in his affect. Minghao doesn’t understand, but he sits close, feeling Seokmin’s warmth as Seokmin leans into him, saddened by the tragic ending to the movie.

‘They really loved each other,’ says Seokmin mournfully.

Privately, Minghao agrees, but he nudges Seokmin. ‘He only married her because she helped him get in power.’

‘That’s not true!’ Seokmin protests, looking up at Minghao with wide eyes. ‘If that was true, he would’ve left her when she got sick.’ He shakes his head, vehement. ‘He wanted to take care of her instead. He wanted her to be better. He loved her, a lot.’

‘You really… pay attention to that sort of stuff, huh,’ says Minghao softly. He leans forward to close the laptop, putting it away, all the while Seokmin gets under the blankets, lying on his back, mouth still working fast.

‘And it would’ve been really easy for him to just - put her in a hospital room and go back to work, but he didn’t! He stayed with her the entire time, even when she wanted him to keep going!’

Minghao isn’t even thinking as he turns off the lights, gets into bed next to Seokmin. Seokmin, who turns onto his side to face Minghao, still trying to make his point: ‘Even when people hated her, they stayed together! He could have found someone else and married them, but he didn’t - because he really, really loved her.’

Nodding, Minghao can’t help but laugh a little, taken aback at Seokmin’s enthusiasm even if it wasn’t something new. ‘Yes, yes, I agree.’

Seokmin pauses. ‘You do?’

Minghao scoffs. ‘You can be pretty smart sometimes.’

It’s fascinating - watching how it takes a second for Seokmin to register the compliment before his cheeks are going pink and he’s curling in on himself, pleased and preening with a grin tucked at the corners of his mouth. It’s not even a good compliment, in Minghao’s opinion, but Seokmin is so sweet for them that Minghao can only think about trying to say something better next time.

Only then does Minghao realize what’s going on - that they’ve fallen into bed together, easy, familiar. Seokmin is tucked close to him, so warm and broad, even while looking up at him through his lashes, with his hands tucked close to his chest. His mouth is parted around a breath; his lips look pink, soft.

‘Turn around,’ says Minghao, voice gone raspy. Seokmin nods, still looking at him, sweet and curious, and obeys. It’s their fourth night now, and Seokmin molds himself against Minghao’s without a word. When Minghao throws an arm around Seokmin’s waist, he finds himself tangling their fingers together first, pressing his palm against Seokmin’s chest to keep him close.

Mingyu comes into the room a few minutes later, apologizes for waking them up, and shuffles around to get ready for bed too. It doesn’t matter; Minghao could feel Seokmin drop off between his arms, easy and sweet. He presses his mouth against the nape of Seokmin’s neck, falls asleep too.

  
  
  


This time, he’s ready. _This time_ , he manages to startle himself awake when Seokmin tries to leave the bed. Somehow, Seokmin’s managed to get Minghao’s arm off him, but their legs are still tangled together.

‘No,’ growls Minghao, bending his knees, dragging Seokmin back down.

‘I should - ’ Seokmin starts, voice cutting off when Minghao’s arm is back around his waist, pinning him against the bed.

‘No,’ he says. The room is still hazy, dim. Minghao definitely knows it’s too early to be up. ‘Stay.’

‘Okay,’ says Seokmin meekly, turning on his side to face Minghao. Minghao tips his head up on the pillow, and Seokmin nuzzles into his neck, arm coming around Minghao’s waist this time. It’s different, but still warm. Still good.

When they wake up a few hours later, it’s together. It’s better.

  
  
  


**v.**

There’s been an itch in his throat the entire day. Despite Jeonghan’s insistence that he’s on the mend, Seungcheol and Jihoon team up to make the executive decision of quarantining him at night for a little longer. At least until Jeonghan has stopped coughing.

He’s hoping it’s because he’s been listening to Jeonghan cough all day that there’s something pricking at his own throat too, and not because he’s caught whatever Jeonghan has. ‘The plague,’ repeats Mingyu.

‘I don’t have the plague,’ says Minghao.

‘We won’t bury you alive,’ promises Seokmin.

‘I’ll bury _you_ alive,’ threatens Minghao, but all that does is make Seokmin laugh.

Tonight is strange - Seokmin is relaxed, nervous all at the same time, and it makes his laughs a bit louder, his touch linger a little longer. Minghao isn’t good at being in tune with people - and Junhui has accused him of being cold more than once - but Seokmin wears his heart on his sleeve. Seokmin is straightforward to know, to understand; Seokmin makes Minghao feel at ease.

When they get ready for bed, Seokmin hurries to use the bathroom before Mingyu, comes back with his towel rubbing at his face as he collapses on Minghao’s bed. Mingyu disappears into the bathroom soon after, while Minghao’s already washed and in bed, scrolling on his phone, feeling a need to clear his throat again - that itch acting up.

‘Ah,’ starts Seokmin, hesitant, peering down at Minghao who is on his back on the bed. ‘It’s okay if you have the plague. You know.’

Minghao glances past his phone up at Seokmin. ‘How is that okay?’

He watches as Seokmin chews the inside of his cheek, before he’s suddenly moving forward. The last thing Minghao really expects as Seokmin falls over top him is for Seokmin’s lips to be on his - kissing him soundly on the mouth.

It’s close-mouthed, warm, soft, only lasts for two seconds or so. Minghao’s brain short-circuits anyway.

Seokmin pulls back, his cheeks red, as he stutters out, ‘There - now we both have the plague.’

Somewhere in those two seconds, Minghao has dropped his phone on his cheek. He stares at Seokmin blankly. ‘What.’ Vaguely, he understands this must be why Seokmin had been nervous for the past hour, but it’s baffling to think that it’s because he wanted to kiss a possibly-sick Minghao.

Above him, the blush has spread from Seokmin’s cheeks to his ears, pinking them at the tips. ‘I just - I thought - I wouldn’t mind, I mean if you got sick, then I could be sick too, and be in quarantine with you?’ He laughs, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment. ‘It made sense in my head.’

‘Right.’ Minghao stares for a second longer before he realizes - much to his muted horror - that he’s blushing too. ‘You’re so,’ he starts, stops, speechless. He glances past Seokmin, and Mingyu is still in the bathroom. Okay. Before he can think himself out of it, Minghao is grabbing the collar of Seokmin’s sleep shirt and tugging him down to kiss again.

‘Should do it properly,’ Minghao mumbles against Seokmin’s lips, the same lips that are _so_ pink, _so_ soft, and he’s licking into Seokmin’s mouth, feeling Seokmin squeak in surprise before he’s opening up, easy as can be.

Somehow, he knew kissing Seokmin would be like this - with Seokmin trembling above him, nervous and shy, mewling when Minghao nips at his bottom lip, pressing back after a moment to try and imitate the action. It’s so sweet, so careful; Seokmin not wanting to cross a line, not wanting to be anything but _good_ for Minghao.

Minghao is sliding to the side of the bed, dragging Seokmin down to lie on his side, curl up close, even as he refuses to pull away. He’s pressing a wet kiss to Seokmin’s top lip, feeling Seokmin’s breath stutter as he adjusts, and it’s so much better to have Seokmin’s body heat pressed up against Minghao now, Seokmin’s fingers curling to grip the front of Minghao’s tanktop like it’s what’s anchoring him at this moment.

When Seokmin shyly flicks his tongue against Minghao’s bottom lip, Minghao huffs a laugh, a hand coming to grip the back of Seokmin’s neck. ‘Like this,’ he murmurs, before he’s sliding his tongue inside Seokmin’s mouth, and the reaction is instantaneous - Seokmin moans, unexpected, unselfconscious, his fingers fisting Minghao’s tanktop as he shivers.

Seokmin tastes of toothpaste, mouthwash. Minghao hums in approval as he licks into Seokmin’s mouth, finds his tongue, sucks on it. A moan bursts out of Seokmin as he jerks, his body arching into Minghao, before he’s pulling away in a flurry of motion, pushing himself away with his hands on Minghao’s chest.

The gesture has Minghao letting go in surprise, not sure if he’s done something Seokmin didn’t like. A dozen apologies are on his tongue, but he forgets them when he sees Seokmin curling in on himself, breathing fast, his face pink, chin tucked down, hands curled against his chest.

‘Seokmin?’ Minghao asks, uncertain.

A few deep breaths later, Seokmin peeks upwards, through his lashes, at Minghao. It makes him look that much more precious, soft and innocent. ‘S-Sorry,’ he says, and that’s when Minghao realizes Seokmin’s body is curved away from his, making sure they’re not touching, as much as possible in such a tiny bed.

‘What happened?’ Minghao asks, though he has a suspicion.

‘N-Nothing,’ says Seokmin, chewing on his bottom lip.

‘Tell me,’ he says, voice flat, unyielding.

Seokmin shuts his eyes. ‘It’s embarrassing,’ he squeaks.

Yeah. Okay. Minghao snorts. ‘Is that why you keep leaving the bed in the morning? Cause you get a boner like now?’

He watches in fascination as Seokmin’s ears somehow manage to get even more red. ‘ _Myeongho_.’

‘Am I wrong?’

‘A little bit.’ Seokmin takes a deep breath, another. He opens one eye to look at Minghao. ‘In the morning, it’s - ah - you. Your boner. First.’

Oh. This time, Minghao’s face goes red.

Mingyu walks back into the room, and he must be utterly baffled by the sight of both Minghao and Seokmin red-faced and staring at each other with wide eyes because he pointedly does not make a comment. Minghao is grateful.

‘Uh. Goodnight?’ Mingyu says instead, turning off the lights.

‘Goodnight,’ wheezes Seokmin, turning around so his back is facing Minghao.

‘Night,’ manages Minghao, dragging his hands over his face in embarrassment. It was a wonder Seokmin kept willingly sleeping next to him when he was apparently grinding his morning wood into Seokmin’s ass or whatever. Explained why Seokmin thought kissing was a good idea, considering Minghao’s sleeping body had skipped to third base at this point.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Minghao, uncaring that Mingyu can hear him.

‘S’okay,’ says Seokmin softly, and he scoots back, his hand reaching behind him to find Minghao’s arm. ‘Me too.’

With that, he pulls Minghao’s arm around his waist, tugging for Minghao to cuddle him already as he twines their fingers together.

It’s such a sweetly eager gesture, Minghao is hard-pressed to resist. A second later, he’s tangling their legs together, holding Seokmin close, while pressing his mouth against the nape of Seokmin’s neck, kissing it softly. Wanting him to know.

Seokmin hums, squeezes their fingers together.

  
  
  


They wake together, regardless. Minghao realizes, yep, he’s very much sporting half a boner pressed against Seokmin’s hip as Seokmin nuzzles into his chest. In his defense, there’s a hard heat against his thigh that he’s confident is Seokmin’s boner, so they’re basically tied. Either way, it’s much too early, and they’re much too sleepy to do anything about it. Minghao drops a kiss in Seokmin’s hair just to hear him make a happy noise and continues to doze.

  
  
  


**vi.**

Jeonghan emerges in the morning, claiming he’s healed. Seungcheol, Jihoon, and Mingyu take turns fretting over him, and then Jisoo whisks him away to make up for all the fun he’s missed. Seungkwan and Seokmin spend all day washing their bed sheets and pillows, trying to get rid of any remaining germs. Junhui spends all day laughing at Minghao’s dour mood.

‘Don’t you want your own bed back?’ Junhui drawls. ‘You can share with me if you need a cuddle buddy so bad.’

‘No.’

‘Mingyu then.’

‘ _No_.’

Junhui starts laughing. ‘Right, right, Seokminnie _only_.’

‘I don’t need a cuddle buddy,’ snaps Minghao.

‘Of course, that’s why you made a face when Seokmin told you he’s getting his room back.’

‘I did _not_.’

‘Did not what?’ Mingyu says as he walks into their room, looking at Junhui who is sprawled over his bed. Minghao is on his own bed, pointedly ignoring Junhui.

Then Junhui says, ‘Minghao is sad he can’t sleep with his boyfriend.’

Minghao launches across the room to choke him.

Mingyu wrestles Minghao off Junhui while laughing. Minghao hates everyone and everything.

He goes to bed early that night and stares at the ceiling in the dark. Seokmin’s room is across the hall. Technically, he could just walk in there. He’s done it before - the times when he’s read something, watched something that made him feel something and it felt important to tell someone, _Seokmin_ , about it, because Seokmin - he wears his heart on his sleeve. Seokmin, he understands, even while Minghao flails pathetically trying to describe it.

He feels pathetic now, disliking the emptiness in his bed and disliking the twist in his stomach even more. There’s something… anti-climactic about it all. They kissed for god’s sake, and even discussed - however vaguely - about their mutual boners. That’s like - supposed to lead somewhere now.

Instead, Seokmin happily exclaims he can move out of Mingyu and Minghao’s room and hums the entire day even as he cleans.

It leaves Minghao feeling helpless. He doesn’t want Seokmin to just think that whatever happened was just a result of circumstances, never to happen again, but trying to come up with the words to say it to him is a daunting task.

He doesn’t manage to sleep until the early hours of the night.

  
  
  


He wakes up early too. Earlier than Mingyu, who is the resident morning person. Tired (and _sad_ , says the Junhui voice in his head) he gets up, crosses the hall, and into Seokmin’s room without knocking. On the left, Jeonghan is snoring softly in his single bunk. On the right are bunk beds - Seungkwan is an unmoving lump in the top bunk, Seokmin is tucked under his blankets on the bottom one.

Minghao gets under the blankets, even as Seokmin startles awake.

‘Myeon - ’ he starts, and Minghao kisses him shut.

Instantly, Seokmin opens up, letting Minghao press him down against the bed. He’s too tired to do anything, so he breaks the kiss a second later, looking down at Seokmin’s dazed expression. ‘Sleep,’ he says, voice raspy with exhaustion, emotion.

‘Okay,’ says Seokmin, opening up his arms. Minghao goes, and feels a wave of relief rush through him when Seokmin nuzzles into his chest, wrapping his arms around Minghao’s waist to hold him close.

  
  
  


**vii.**

They’re travelling. No one is sick anymore and there’s schedules to keep. The day goes: dorms to airport to fansign to restaurant to hotel.

It’s fun. Enjoyable. To be out doing things and seeing people and talking to them. After a week of being cooped up, Jeonghan gets the colour back in his face, and the resident extroverts: Soonyoung, Chan, and Seokmin, are out in full force being loud. Junhui and Jisoo are smiling, charming, even while acting ridiculous. Wonwoo, Seungcheol, and Hansol take a back seat, while Seungkwan and Mingyu trade bad jokes as Jihoon cringes. Minghao is at home here - amidst the noise, the company, the organized chaos.

The thirteen of them crowd into a restaurant for dinner. At the hotel, the room cards are handed out to pairs of them. Junhui wiggles his eyebrows as he offers to trade with Minghao.

‘What,’ says Minghao.

‘This isn’t mine,’ says Junhui as if that explains anything even as he grabs Minghao’s card and gives him the other one.

‘Wait.’ Minghao blinks, then hisses: ‘Whose keycard is this?’

Junhui winks and walks away.

‘No! Get back here!’ But of course, Mingyu has to stand there in between them - a wall of benevolent goodness that, for some reason, also winks at him. Minghao stares. ‘Whose is this?’

Mingyu at least has the decency to say, ‘Oh, I saw Junhui take it from Jeonghan.’ Minghao is already turning around to give it back when Mingyu grabs his elbow. ‘Jeonghan is Seokmin’s roommate.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Minghao says, rolling his eyes.

He is stopped, once again, by Mingyu awkwardly shuffling in front of him. ‘Jun says I’m not allowed to let you give it back.’

Minghao stares at the keycard. When he looks around the lobby, he sees Jeonghan walking with Jisoo to the elevators. Considering Junhui is an enabling shit when he wants to be, he’s pretty confident even if he did sprint over to Jeonghan, Jeonghan would just give him an enigmatic smile and refuse to take back the keycard. Maybe he could trade with someone else….

‘You’re such a loser,’ says Junhui, reappearing next to Minghao. He palms Minghao’s ass too, as if Minghao needed another reason to murder him. ‘Talk to him, and if it doesn’t work, me and Wonwoonie have booze. We’re across the hall.’

Fine. _Fine_. Minghao stomps towards the elevators, and pointedly ignores Mingyu’s eager thumbs-up.

The room is on the seventh floor. In the hallway, he spots Chan and Seungcheol unlocking a door a few rooms away from his. They wave to him in greeting before going inside and Minghao feels a little better. At least not _everyone_ knew Minghao was a lovesick loser.

He rolls his suitcase inside and is thankful Seokmin isn’t here yet. Too busy chatting in the lobby as he is wont to do. Made sense. Minghao unpacks his suitcase on one of the beds and takes a shower.

When he comes out, Seokmin has his suitcase open on the other bed and he blinks in surprise at Minghao. ‘Myeongho?’

It should be easy to explain that keycards got traded around, or lie that they got mixed up, or that he’s in the wrong room, or _something_ , but instead Minghao stands there like an absolute fool because it’s far more important to ask Seokmin, ‘Is this okay?’

Seokmin tilts his head, confused. ‘Of course. Where’s Jeonghan-hyung sleeping?’

‘In Jisoo’s room.’

‘Good,’ says Seokmin, nodding to himself. He has his toiletries in his arms and he walks past Minghao into the bathroom. ‘I’m gonna shower.’

Dressed in shorts and a tanktop for bed, Minghao begins to fold his the clothes he was wearing to put them back in his suitcase when something falls out of the back pocket of his jeans onto the bed. Staring at it for a moment, Minghao is foolish enough to think it’s a travel-size tube of toothpaste before he realizes…

Remembering Junhui palming his ass in the lobby, Minghao should’ve known it was to slip him lube. Yeah. He was going to murder Junhui.

Throwing the lube in his suitcase, he hurriedly shuts the lid of suitcase and shoves it under the bed. When he finally lies down on the sheets, taking his phone with him, he’s completely unsurprised to see the screen flashing with five texts, all from Junhui.

From the bathroom, he can hear Seokmin singing. Jeonghan had once said Seokmin sang too much; Minghao imagines he would too if his voice was that nice. It’s easy to be lulled by the sound of it as he lies on the hotel bed, waiting, waiting.

When Seokmin finally comes out, he’s towelling his hair dry, dressed in pajama pants and a sleep shirt. He sits on the edge of the other bed and smiles at Minghao. ‘The water pressure is nice.’

‘Yes,’ says Minghao. He’s lying on his side, phone in one hand, other arm reaching out in the air. Seokmin’s expression softens. He puts the towel aside before standing up, leaning forward to get on the bed next to Minghao.

‘Are you okay?’ Seokmin asks, quietly, sweetly.

No, thinks Minghao. Yes. I don’t know. ‘Come here,’ he says instead.

It surprises him every time how Seokmin is broader than him, yet he fits so easily between Minghao’s arms, tucking his face into the crook of Minghao’s neck, his frame somehow becoming compact and small to be held. He hums when Minghao drops a kiss in his hair, so obviously Minghao has to do it again.

‘Myeongho?’ Seokmin asks, pulling back enough to look up at him, curious and worried. Of course he would know something is off, but Minghao doesn’t know what to say.

His phone is lying somewhere on the other pillow, one of Junhui’s texts flashing out _Just talk to him_.

Minghao is awful at talking; maybe he can show Seokmin instead.

Leaning down, he kisses Seokmin on the mouth, marveling how Seokmin moans and opens up, his hands on Minghao’s waist shifting to cling to his shirt as Minghao presses harder. He’s so easy, sweet, as he lets Minghao lick inside, trace along the ridges of his teeth, the hard line of his palate. When he sucks on Seokmin’s tongue, Seokmin keens, but this time he doesn’t try to roll away.

This time, Minghao’s arm is around Seokmin’s waist and he pulls him that much closer, tangles their legs together, doesn’t let Seokmin escape. When he pulls back to litter kisses over Seokmin’s jaw, he can see how Seokmin’s eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth red and wet and open as he whines.

When Minghao licks down his throat, Seokmin arches, gasps, ‘ _Myeongho_ ,’ and it’s the prettiest sound. His hands are skittering down Seokmin’s chest, tugging at the hem of his sleep shirt.

‘Take it off,’ he growls against Seokmin’s collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin. He wouldn’t bite, not yet, not yet.

Seokmin makes a noise and he’s lifting arms, letting Minghao strip off his shirt. Immediately, Minghao is throwing it somewhere to the side as he rolls Seokmin onto his back, hands sliding down the flat plane of his stomach to get to the waistband of his pajama pants.

Splayed over the sheets, Seokmin hasn’t ever looked as good as he does now: his high cheekbones flushed pink, his pretty mouth open and whining as he peers blearily through his lashes down at Minghao who is straddling his thighs.

‘Myeongho,’ he moans quietly, his hands on either side of his head over the pillow, like he’s not sure if he should reach out, if he should touch.

The sight of him has arousal shooting straight to Minghao’s cock. He muffles a groan, even as he drags Seokmin’s underwear and pajama pants off him, getting him completely naked. ‘Look so pretty,’ he says, voice gone low and rough with want.

The compliment has the blush deepen over his cheeks, spread to his ears. ‘Myeongho, please, what,’ starts Seokmin, but Minghao can’t answer that, can’t possibly explain the myriad of emotions twisting themselves in his chest. Instead, he’s leaning over him, kissing him shut, cutting him off, and Seokmin only moans, his back arching upwards against Minghao.

‘So pretty,’ murmurs Minghao against his mouth, hand reaching between them to cup Seokmin’s half-hard cock, stroke it once, twice. Seokmin shakes, trembles, keens against him. ‘Just like that - so fucking gorgeous.’

‘Please,’ says Seokmin, brows drawn together, eyes dark with arousal, but still not knowing what Minghao wanted. ‘Please, Myeongho.’

‘Can I fuck you?’ Minghao asks, finally, watching Seokmin, not wanting to miss a single expression that passed over his face.

The blush makes Seokmin’s ears glow pink as he drags his teeth over his bottom lip in consideration before nodding. ‘Please.’

‘Tell me to stop.’

Seokmin looks at him, and his gaze is more lucid than Minghao expects, has him feeling terribly exposed for a singular, heart-stopping moment. ‘I don’t want you to stop.’

Relief swims in Minghao’s stomach. ‘Yeah?’

He nods, again, before asking, ‘What’s wrong, Myeongho?’

Minghao kisses him in reply, feeling how Seokmin opened his mouth as if to drink Minghao’s desperation. It has Minghao feel that much more frantic, _needing_ to make this good for Seokmin.

Seokmin makes an adorably confused noise when Minghao gets off the bed to grab the lube from the suitcase. God, he still hated Junhui - but Minghao wasn’t above not taking advantage of a situation.

He only realizes he’s still clothed when he’s kneeling on the bed, urging Seokmin to spread his legs, ‘just like that - you’re so good,’, until Seokmin’s knees are touching his chest as he squeaks in embarrassment over the fact that Minghao can see his cock, his ass in full view. ‘Good boy,’ says Minghao, utterly sincere, dropping a kiss along the inside of one of Seokmin’s thick thighs as he guides Seokmin’s hands to grip the back of his knees, hold himself open.

‘I’m - ’ Seokmin stutters, eyes shut, his face red. ‘Please, _please_.’

Minghao pops open the lube, slicks his fingers. ‘I’m going to take care of you.’

He doesn’t expect Seokmin to keen at the promise, and the sound has something in Minghao’s chest twisting again - tight and painful. Sucking in a deep breath, Minghao focuses - slides his fingers along the curve of Seokmin’s ass, slides a finger inside of him.

Opening him up is a slow, steady process. Seokmin isn’t quiet, but he doesn’t ever get loud - sings out the prettiest moans as Minghao stretches him with one finger, two fingers, three. His ass is tight, hot, and Minghao’s own cock is hard and leaking under his shorts, but he refrains. He was gonna take care of Seokmin.

Eventually, he’s fucking Seokmin open steadily now, fingers pumping with a slick filthy noise, matching Seokmin’s keens as he arches, his palms slipping in their sweat along the back of his knees. ‘Please,’ he begs, voice pitched. ‘ _Please_ , Myeongho.’

‘Tell me,’ says Minghao, grinding his fingers deep, dragging them mean and hard along the inside of Seokmin’s ass, just to hear Seokmin’s voice break. ‘What do you want?’ Because Minghao would give it, anything in this moment.

Seokmin cries out, shoving his cheek against the pillow, eyes shut and skin slick, glittering with sweat so prettily Minghao could coo. ‘ _Myeongho_.’

‘Tell me,’ he repeats, insistent, even as his fingers can feel how Seokmin clenches around him, desperate.

‘Please, please, fuck me,’ Seokmin finally blurts, embarrassed in his want. ‘Fuck me, Myeongho, please.’

‘Yes,’ he says, sliding his fingers out, finally divesting himself of his tanktop, his shorts. Seokmin is panting, his chest stained pink, but he keeps position perfectly - holding his knees to his chest, his cock hard and leaking on his stomach, his ass spread just for Minghao to use, to fuck. ‘So good for me.’

Seokmin blinks open his eyes when he feels Minghao peel his fingers away from the back of his knees. Minghao leans over him, pressing Seokmin’s hands down on either side of his head against the pillow. Kneeling between Seokmin’s open legs, Minghao’s own palms fit over the hard muscle of Seokmin’s thighs as he keeps him spread, pushes down to keep him pinned.

When Seokmin feels Minghao’s cock catch against his hole, he whimpers, and the sound is sweet enough to have Minghao’s hips jerk forward, press inside in a slow, heady slide that burns right through his nerves.

‘Oh,’ Seokmin sighs out, fingers white-knuckling the pillow under his head. ‘Oh - god.’

It feels unbearably good - Seokmin’s ass tight and hot around his cock, clutching at him until Minghao is balls-deep and grinding into that perfect spot that has Seokmin arching in a wordless cry. ‘Fuck,’ he groans, hands scratching for a grip around Seokmin’s hips now. ‘Fuck, you feel good.’

‘Myeongho,’ keens Seokmin, staring down at him, his eyes dark and wide with want, his thighs trembling to stay spread open.

‘I got you,’ says Minghao, even as he draws his hips back, fucks in, slow and deep. It feels too good, but he has to go slow, has to take his time. Before him, Seokmin is a glorious, gorgeous sight - his pretty sun-kissed skin glittering with sweat as he arches, takes Minghao with each thrust, keening wordlessly for more as he claws at the pillow.

Eventually, he can feel how Seokmin’s ass has loosened up around him, his hips rolling to meet Minghao’s as Minghao slides into him, over and over. Those long, drawn-out cries have settled to hiccups, Seokmin watching Minghao between his thighs, his cock untouched and leaking a pool of precome over his stomach.

‘Please,’ he says eventually, stuttering, ass tightening around Minghao’s cock. Minghao hisses, but he won’t speed up, not until Seokmin _says_ it. For what it’s worth, Seokmin seems to understand: ‘Please, Myeongho, please.’

‘Good boys ask for what they want,’ says Minghao, uncaring that his breath seems shot because Seokmin’s ass feels just that good around his cock. ‘You’re good, aren’t you?’

Embarrassment has Seokmin squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, but he’s nodding, arching his back when Minghao grinds into him. ‘I’m sorry - sorry.’

‘Tell me.’

It’s so fucking _pretty_ watching Seokmin struggle with himself - his brows drawn together, jaw clenched, teeth dragging over that pretty bottom lip that Minghao wants kiss. ‘Please,’ he says eventually, his voice breaking when Minghao thrusts into him a touch harder. ‘ _Myeongho_ \- oh, f-fuck me, fuck me, please.’

Minghao tips his head to the side like he doesn’t understand, just to see Seokmin keen in frustration. ‘I thought I was fucking you.’ He hitches his hips sharply against Seokmin’s ass, punches a moan out of him. ‘Or did you want it harder? Did you want to take my dick hard and fast, over and over again?’

He’s being cruel, watching Seokmin flinch and flush, struggle for words when he’s not used to asking for what he wants, especially not like this. But Minghao needs this - needs to hear Seokmin _ask_ for _him_. No one else.

‘H-Harder,’ says Seokmin softly, voice wrecked, thighs trembling. ‘Please? Please, Myeongho, fuck me harder?’

It’s honestly a miracle Minghao doesn’t come right then and there. He pulls out instead, much to Seokmin’s distress, but he’s already grabbing at Seokmin’s hips to flip him over on his stomach. ‘Turn around.’

And like a good fucking boy, Seokmin obeys: face down, ass up, all for Minghao to use.

He’s pushing back inside a second later, to the glorious sound of Seokmin crying out, nails scratching at the pillows. Hips snapping hard against Seokmin’s ass, Minghao buries his cock deep in that tight, hot hole, leaning over Seokmin’s back to mouth at Seokmin’s nape, giving in to his urge to _bite_.

Seokmin cries out again - so _loud_ and _responsive_ \- as he takes it: Minghao’s teeth scraping hard over the knobs of his spine, Minghao’s hands in a bruising grip around his hips, Minghao’s cock driving into him again and again, making sure to hit that sweet spot that has Seokmin keening pathetically into the bed.

‘You wanted it like this?’ Minghao asks, unable to stop himself from being this mean, this cruel, ‘You wanted to get fucked _just - like - this_?’ punctuating his words by reaming into Seokmin hard enough to have Seokmin break out a sob. ‘ _Tell me_.’

Shoving his face against the pillow, Seokmin pants. ‘Yes, yes, yes, _please_ , Myeongho!’ Then he’s arching his back, canting his hips upwards, welcoming each slam of Minghao’s hips against his ass.

Minghao hisses, one hand slipping from Seokmin’s hips to find Seokmin’s still-untouched cock, feeling how hot and hard and _slick_ it was, _proof_ that Minghao could do this to him - turn him on and string him out.

The friction on his cock has Seokmin wailing - such a pretty sound, so loud, so completely impossible to hide had they been in the dorms. But they’re not in the dorms, they’re here, in a soundproof hotel room, and Seokmin is naked and pliant and begging for _more, more, more_ in his wordless cries as Minghao uses him up. Minghao would be a fool to not make him scream.

‘I’m gonna make you come,’ Minghao promises, right into Seokmin’s ear, as he strokes Seokmin off, making sure to not stop his own thrusts. ‘You’ll be a good boy and come, right? Come just for me?’

Seokmin is nodding, frantic, hips rolling to meet Minghao’s thrusts, breaking into a sob when Minghao’s cock nails into his prostate, has his own cock drip strings of precome all over Minghao’s fingers.

It’s easy to make him come like this; it’s harder instead to hold his own orgasm off when Seokmin’s ass is milking his cock so well as Minghao jerks him off. Each wave of pleasure is so clear to see as it ripples over Seokmin’s back, making the muscles of his shoulders tighten, loosen. Minghao is fascinated by how _everything_ about Seokmin is utterly transparent, there for anyone to see, even now.

‘Myeongho, Myeongho, Myeongho,’ sobs Seokmin as his cock twitches in Minghao’s grip, and Minghao can’t resist. He’s biting hard into the curve of Seokmin’s shoulder as he fucks into him, tries to pound the orgasm right out of Seokmin’s trembling, arched frame. Seokmin doesn’t last, wailing, ‘ _Myeongho_!’ as he comes, all over Minghao’s hand, the sheets underneath.

Instantly, Minghao’s hands are on Seokmin’s hips, and he’s holding tight, bruising the skin as he slams his cock into that tight ass, feeling how the aftershocks of Seokmin’s orgasm has his hole squeezing around Minghao’s cock, the friction feeling that much better. Minghao is hissing under his breath, continuing to fuck into Seokmin until Seokmin is going pliant, post-orgasm seeping into him so he’s just become a warm body to use, mewling Minghao’s name over and over.

‘Gonna come in you,’ he says, unsure if its even a warning, but Seokmin only nods, ready to take anything Minghao gives him. ‘So fucking _good_ ,’ he says, fierce, needing for Seokmin to understand. ‘Such a good fucking boy for me.’

‘Myeongho,’ says Seokmin, looking wrecked as he looks over his shoulder, ‘please, please come - come in me.’

‘ _Fuck_.’ Minghao doesn’t even blink before his orgasm is hitting him in the gut, has him arching over Seokmin’s back as he empties out. Hitching his hips tight against Seokmin’s ass, he grinds his cock deep inside, feeling how his thighs flex every time he pumps another rope of come. There’s just an empty buzzing in his skull as he tries to recover from one of the hardest orgasms of his life, letting the aftershocks ride through him.

It probably takes an entire minute before Minghao remembers he should pull out. Seokmin whines weakly when he does, and Minghao stares blankly at Seokmin’s asshole that is very much leaking white strings of his come.

He may or may not be thinking when he buries his face in Seokmin’s ass, making Seokmin let out a rather loud squeak of surprise.

‘Myeongho!’ Seokmin stutters, even as Minghao licks out his own come from Seokmin’s asshole. It’s honestly pretty easy considering Seokmin is fucked out and post-orgasmic, unable to just roll away when all Minghao wants is to clean him out with his tongue. ‘Oh god.’

Minghao hums, finding himself grinning as Seokmin makes more appalled noises, ‘that’s - please - _Myeongho_ ,’ before he’s holding Seokmin’s ass apart and dipping his tongue inside the hole that’s been fucked open and loose, all because of him, all _for_ him.

He makes sure to take his time, if only to hear Seokmin’s words turn garbled, as his tongue presses deeper inside. Tasting his own come is just another gleeful reminder that it was _him_ who ruined Seokmin like this, made him come apart at the seams, turn filthy just for Minghao’s satisfaction.

After a moment, he seals his mouth around Seokmin’s hole, _sucks_. Seokmin let’s out a keen so loud his voice cracks. Minghao drags the flat of his tongue over the rim one last time before pulling away, unable to stop grinning when he sees Seokmin is flat against the bed and panting hard.

It’s too soon after sex for either of them to get hard again, so Minghao focuses on getting clean instead. Seokmin makes a soft noise of distress when he feels Minghao get off the bed, but Minghao hums. ‘Gotta clean.’

In the bathroom, he washes the come off his hands and face, and then grabs one of the dozen towels for Seokmin. On the bed, Seokmin hasn’t moved - still lying on his stomach, eyes gone hazy with sleepiness and satiation. Minghao patiently rolls him over - _out_ of the puddle of his own come - and wipes him down. ‘C’mon, we’ll sleep on the other bed.’

‘Together?’ Seokmin mumbles, reaching out for Minghao.

Minghao tangles their fingers together as he tugs Seokmin up, gets him under the covers of the other bed. ‘Of course.’

He tosses the towel on the floor and turns off the lights, stumbles through the dark towards the bed. When he lifts the covers, Seokmin is already on his side, letting Minghao big spoon him, kissing the nape of his neck idly. A new favourite spot.

  
  
  


The morning comes too quick. Even in his half-asleep state, Minghao manages to tighten his grip around Seokmin’s waist when he feels Seokmin try to shimmy away.

‘Myeongho,’ says Seokmin, tugging gently at Minghao’s arms. ‘Gotta get up.’

‘No.’

Seokmin pauses. ‘We have to get ready?’

‘Why are you even _awake_ ,’ snaps Minghao, finally opening his eyes and instantly regretting it.

In the morning light, Seokmin looks even better - hair tousled, eyes wide, and _naked_ , but more importantly, _marked_. Minghao’s eyes track the lingering redness over Seokmin’s throat and collarbone, and the very obvious bruise his bite had left over the curve of Seokmin’s shoulder. He’s sure if he looks further south, he’ll see bruises over Seokmin’s hips, his thighs. The thought shoots straight to his cock.

‘I need a shower,’ Seokmin says, his cheeks pinking. ‘Cause. Ah. Last night.’

Yes. What a good night, in Minghao’s opinion. ‘I thought I licked you clean?’

‘ _Myeongho_ ,’ he squeaks, embarrassed.

Minghao grins, shameless, and drags Seokmin closer, adamant on keeping him in bed. ‘We can save time, shower together.’

Seokmin’s expressions softens. ‘So we share beds _and_ showers now?’

There’s something in his tone - but it’s not accusing. Minghao’s unsure if Seokmin even knows how to accuse. Yet it pushes at his previous good-humour, has him sobering up as he tries to decipher what exactly Seokmin thinks now, what he’s made of this situation. Fucking isn’t the same as talking, Junhui would know, and now that it was the morning, Minghao’s unsure if what he’s done was anything other than just trying to possess Seokmin without asking.

Suddenly, he wants to apologize. He wants to take it back. ‘We don’t have to,’ he says. ‘We don’t have to share.’

‘But,’ Seokmin starts. ‘But you want to, right?’

This isn’t about the bed or the shower anymore. Minghao can feel his throat close up over the words - again, just like last night. Why couldn’t he just _talk_? Why was this so _impossible_?

‘I,’ he manages, grasping at any words he can. ‘I don’t want to share you.’

What.

Seokmin blinks. ‘Okay?’ He makes another attempt to leave the bed, and Minghao very much panics and clings onto him that much harder. ‘Myeongho, please, can I shower now?’

‘Yes,’ says Minghao. ‘I mean - no, you don’t, you don’t need my _permission_.’ He sucks in a deep breath, even as Seokmin raises his eyebrows in mild bafflement. ‘And we can sleep in separate beds and take separate showers.’

‘Okay,’ says Seokmin, still staring at him.

‘I just. Want you to stay?’ Minghao shuts his eyes in frustration. ‘I-I like you. I like you _so much_.’

‘Oh,’ he hears Seokmin say, sweet and soft. ‘Myeongho…’

Opening his eyes, Minghao matches Seokmin’s gaze, adamant now to get his point across. ‘We don’t - we don’t have to _date_ or whatever, if you don’t want to, but I - I don’t want you to think I’d just let _anyone_ sleep in my bed, okay, or hold my hand, or - y’know - fuck.’

The last bit has Seokmin blushing, clearly recalling sordid details, then he’s smiling - toothy and wide and _ridiculous_. ‘I like you too!’ He says, so blunt and obvious that Minghao feels his own cheeks start to burn.

‘W-What,’ he starts, but Seokmin is laughing, bright and lovely.

‘I like you too,’ Seokmin repeats, still grinning but more serious now as he peers at Minghao. ‘And we should date.’

Minghao can’t breathe. ‘What.’

Seokmin chews on his bottom lip - shy, nervous - as his lashes cast down in thought. ‘I thought - maybe - you were just being nice. And I took advantage, even when Mingyu told me you were a light sleeper. But… I couldn’t help myself, cause I just… wanted to be close to you. I’m sorry.’

Took advantage. _Took advantage_. Only _Seokmin_ could possibly imagine he _took advantage_. Minghao stares at him, then bursts out laughing. ‘I _forced_ you to get into bed with me, and you,’ he can’t even finish, laughing now from relief, trying to cover up his desperate need to press Seokmin down into the bed and make him say it over and over again. _Myeongho,_ _I like you, I like you, I like you._

When he figures out how to breathe again, Seokmin is still snuggled close to him, peering at him, expectant.

‘We’re dating,’ says Minghao, cupping Seokmin’s cheeks in his hands, bringing him close to kiss on the mouth once, chaste but purposeful. ‘Starting now.’

Seokmin beams, before asking, ‘But I can sleep in my own bed now back in the dorms, right?’

‘Yeah, of course, those mattresses are too small for two people anyway,’ replies Minghao, nodding. ‘And the showers are too small to share too.’

They share the shower anyway.

-

**Author's Note:**

> please luv seokhao with me, I'm begging u


End file.
